Emergence
by myriad-ice
Summary: Post-Ootp. Harry leaves the safety of Dumbledore and the Order, no longer able to trust them, and he discovers that the threat Voldemort poses is larger than he ever thought possible.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the Potter Universe as written by J.K.Rowling.

Hey Everyone. As I stated in my bio, I think I got sloppy mid-way through this chapter, and it didn't flow as smoothly as I wanted. I think the main reason was me rushing to finish the chapter so I could get to the good stuff. I Hope it flowed okay, I'm a bit rusty so I am a little worried at how this turned out. Oh well, I may come back later and attempt to fix it, take care. Oh, P.S, I know I haven't mentioned Hedwig in this chapter, he will make an appearance next time.

Emergence

Chapter 1

Harry couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning and banging his face on the pillow did nothing but make him more restless. Sighing in frustration he threw off his bedspread, and sat up in his bed. The Dursley's, with the warning from Moody and the rest of the Order still fresh in their minds, had been largely ignoring him, resulting in extended periods of free time. Yet, Harry had never had much free time during his childhood, and perhaps for the first time, he would rather do without. Being so physically and mentally inactive caused his mind to drift back to the events of his most recent year at Hogwarts, and this distressed and frustrated him. It had been three days now since returning to Privet Drive, three days since he left the school he had once considered to be his home.

Groaning, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slowly got to his feet. He still vividly remembered the events that transpired in Dumbledore's office at the end of his school year. The bleeding prophecy. The perfect justification for everything that happens to him. Every excuse was conveniently tied in some way back to it. He was the last hope for the wizarding world, if he were to die needlessly than everything was for naught. Everything was for his own good, and for his own safety. Every decision Dumbledore makes has Harry's interests foremost in his mind. But surely it wouldn't jeopardize his safety to be informed of what is happening, especially if he was going to be thrust into the middle of this battle, as the prophecy implies. Surely it wouldn't jeopardize his safety, to be treated with a little respect, and not some child who's too young to know what he's talking about. Surely it wouldn't jeopardize his safety, to be taught or be given access to a few more advanced defensive techniques and spells, which would actually be useful during his battle with Voldemort. Spells that weren't basic enough to be included in the school curriculum, more advanced than the tomes in the school library contained, spells that would present him with a fighting chance during the war.

Terror flooded Harry's heart as for the thousandth time, he had been reminded of the situation he had been thrust into. How was it even possible for him to be victorious in a one on one duel with Voldemort? It wasn't possible. Voldemort had been totally immersed in the dark arts for more than half a century. Seeking every piece of knowledge available, perfecting every spell, every technique, undergoing dark and powerful transformations that did Merlin knows what. How is it possible for a child, who had only just graduated from his 5th year, to even be considered a challenge? Harry's cheeks flushed when he considered that he still had to shout spells like a bumbling inept, while Voldemort and Dumbledore needed only an elegant swish of their wands. To compound his problems, Tom Riddle was considered to be the most brilliant wizard to ever graduate from Hogwarts. In comparison, Harry Potter had potential in Defence against the Dark Arts, had a 5th grade knowledge of spells, and a knack for getting himself in and out of trouble. This couldn't even be called an impending battle, more an impending slaughter.

His legs suddenly unsteady and unable to support his weight, Harry staggered over to his desk and collapsed into his chair. The entire Wizarding World, his friends included, looked to him to be some kind of hero. He was going to let them all down, they were all going to be killed and it was his fault. A growl escaped Harry's lips as he banged his fists down on his desk in frustration.

"But Dumbledore should already know this", Harry muttered to himself. "So why was he so confident?"

Reviewing the headmaster's actions last year, it was fast dawning on him that he was never being prepared for such an active role in the war. Since Voldemort's return, he'd been shunned to the sidelines. No not even the sidelines, to the distant background as if he wasn't important. Yet according to the precious prophecy he was the most important figure involved, being the only one that could end this war. What was Dumbledore planning? Was he to be kept completely out of the fight? Would the Order of the Phoenix be trusted with all the work? At the last moment, once the dark lord's army had been decimated and Voldemort himself on his knees, would he only then be able to emerge from his cage, finishing off the Dark Lord with his "special" power that no one knows about? Harry gasped, his fists clenched and his fingernails drawing blood as they dug painfully into his palm. That was it, it started making sense now. He was being molded as a weapon, a sheathed dagger to be worn around the headmaster's belt. The sole purpose of this weapon, of Harry's existence, was to be used to produce the finishing blow against Voldemort as only he could. Feeling used and humiliated, Harry let his shoulders slump, his chin resting on his chest, tears rolling freely down his cheeks. Was that all he was to them? Just an instrument to use when the time arises? And what happens if Dumbledore is successful, will he be thrown aside like a piece of refuse, or worse confine him to Azkaban fearing what he will become. Harry tried to compose himself, desperately attempting to think of some concrete evidence to tell him that he was just paranoid, that the entire Order do care for him, not just manipulating him for their own ends. But Harry couldn't. Everything that has happened pointed to the conclusion that Harry was being manipulated, being lied to at every turn, and he hated this feeling more than anything.

HOW DARE THEY, he trusted them, looked up to them, looked to them for advice, they were his friends, he TRUSTED them. Emotions flickered inside Harry faster than he could think, each vying for dominance. Shooting to his feet, Harry stalked over to his bed, all traces of the sadness and despair he was feeling just moments before completely gone. Clenching his fist and cocking his arm back, he unleashed punch after punch into the mattress. The mattress served to muffle all sound so as not to wake the Dursley's. Whack, Dumbledore's damn twinkling eyes. Whack, the Order's condescending attitude. Whack, Snape and his damn occulemency lessons.......Snape's occulemency lessons. Harry's shoulders slumped and his head became bowed. No, the reason that Harry was kept in the dark wasn't because everyone was against him. His mind was just too vulnerable. With Voldemort being able to invade his mind at will, his occulemency skill was not at a high enough level to be trusted with such information. Dumbledore tried to teach him occulemency, via Snape, but he couldn't learn it. But how could he. Was Snape even serious about teaching Harry occulemency or was he reveling in the opportunity to cause Harry misery. Abusing Dumbledore's trust by taking the opportunity to cause Harry pain, humiliation, making him relive some of his worst nightmares in his petty quest for vengeance. Surely the headmaster would have known that Snape would have abused his position. Did Dumbledore do this deliberately? Giving the appearance of attempting to aid Harry, whilst his plans were to do the complete opposite. The headmaster had offered to teach Occulemency to him next year, but was it a part of some plan to.......

No, this was going too far. Dumbledore did care about Harry, he was looking out for him like a grandfather. Sure he made mistakes, everyone does, yet was he so willing to condemn the kind old man because he made a few errors of judgment under pressure?

No Dumbledore never made errors of judgment, he was too wise and knew too much to suddenly make a multitude of errors.

But it wasn't a multitude of errors, just one or two that had dire consequences and had spiraled out of control. Gritting his teeth, Harry clenched and unclenched his hands, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Who could he trust? Who couldn't he trust? Was Dumbledore his friend and ally, or a manipulative bastard using Harry for his own means. Was the Order trustworthy? Well that would depend largely on Dumbledore. At least he knew he could trust his two friends Ron and Hermione. They were always there, willing to die for him if need be, these two special people who were so close to his heart were above betrayal. He knew they would always be there for him no matter the personal cost..... Yet, despite everything they had been through, Hermione was always willing to back Dumbledore's judgment over his, always urging Harry to listen to Dumbledore, that Dumbledore always knows best. She can't be, no, she couldn't be working for the Order, she was too young. Was he lied to about that as well? And Ron's family are all strong Order supporters...with the exception of Percy.

With this latest revelation, Harry flopped down on his bed and stared down at the palms of his hands. Staring at the thin trails of blood snaking its way down his palm. Staring at the curious flaps of now white skin that his fingernails caused, digging and raking across his palm. Harry tilted his hands at various angles, watching as the droplets of blood changed its course to match the tilting, then eventually pooled at the base of his palms and slowly dripped to the floor. His emotions came at such intensity and changed so frequently and so completely, that it left him panting, slightly out of breath, and he started to wonder what it would be like to be free of all the expectations, to be free of all the pressure, of all the deaths, of all the betrayal and backstabbing. He wouldn't need to worry who he could trust, who were his allies, his enemies, and who only wanted to manipulate him. How simple it would be, to take a knife and sink slowly into the comfort of darkness. A simple act, not time consuming, just a couple of slits and it would be done. But such an act once done cannot be undone, he had to make sure he was serious about this...........

Serious... Sirius! No he couldn't. How could he honor the memory of Sirius, his parents, and Cedric, who all died bravely in battle fighting for everything they believed in, fighting for HIM. Such a cowardly act would spit on their memories, and make a mockery of all they sacrificed. Harry's cheeks burned in shame, how dare he even contemplate such a path. Voldemort would want that wouldn't he? Stuff him, he'll stay alive if only to piss Voldemort off. Wiping his hands on his trousers to clean the blood off, he stood up resolute, eyes burning with a newfound determination. He would not be shoved into the background. He would not sit aside and watch Dumbledore and his Order do all the work, not only because he was not willing to be used as a weapon, a tool to be used and discarded by the whim of his 'master', but also because he thought the Order wouldn't win. An honorable bunch, but with Voldemort and his death eaters employing an 'any means possible' approach, the Order's unwillingness to get their hands dirty would simply not get the job done. Always attempting to capture death eaters, never attacking always on the defensive, that is no way to win a war. No the prophecy stated he was the only one that could defeat Voldemort, it was his responsibility to shoulder, he had to win otherwise many lives would be lost. But this still didn't solve the main problem, how was he to defeat Voldemort as he was now.

Suddenly it all became clear to Harry. The simplicity of the answer astounded him. He couldn't. He couldn't win. He couldn't gain sufficient magical knowledge from school. Furthermore he doubted he could defeat Voldemort alone, however if he couldn't trust anyone, which was the situation Harry found himself in now, he'd have no choice. No, with these sets of rules, he would be slaughtered. To have a chance of winning, he must change the rules, change the scenario, be totally unpredictable. However, where would he go? Where would he pick up the amount of magical knowledge necessary to defend himself properly, and how would he protect himself against deatheaters before he picked up said magical knowledge? Furthermore, the Order probably had guards posted outside the house keeping a strict eye on him, if he left the house they would swoop and he would find himself before Dumbledore so fast it would make his head spin He needed a plan and he needed one fast. He had to leave whilst he was still under the Dursley's care, for once he was back under Dumbledore and the Order's watchful eyes, it would be virtually impossible to.....

A bolt of lightning exploded inside Harry's head. Crumpling to the ground he writhed, shrieked, and clasped the palms of his hands tightly to each temple in a desperate attempt to lessen the agony. No, this was no lightning bolt. A bolt of lightning, while similar in intensity, appears and disappears in an instant. This brutal attack on his mind lasted much longer, and showed no signs of stopping. His sense of time obliterated, Harry had no clue as to how long the attack lasted, only that when finally subsiding he was sobbing and quavering on the ground, curled up in a ball, his knees hugged tightly to his chest and his head resting on his knees.

Slowly, painfully, Harry uncurled and rose to his hands and knees, his head still ringing from the assault. Shocked by the unexpected attack, his brain seemed to have shut down, temporarily unable to function properly. Harry raised one hand to wipe the tears from his eyes, then attempted to rise to his feet, however his legs were too unsteady to support his weight and he toppled to the ground.

With the fog in his mind beginning to clear, his brain started to panic, and was in the process of painting several unpleasant scenarios, all of which shared a couple of common themes. Harry had been attacked, the attack was from Voldemort, he had to run. Gritting his teeth in determination, Harry resolutely moved his hands underneath him and began to push himself up.

"_Ummmm, sorry for interrupting your little bout of hysterics, but my name is not Voldemort."_ a voice said.

Flinching in surprise, Harry whipped his head back and forth in an effort to see who was speaking to him. He was scared. Someone had managed to sneak into his room, avoid the detection of Harry's Order guards, and incapacitate him with a brutal attack on his mind. His eyes accustomed to the dark, he could scour the room for intruders quite easily, and with the room being bare and devoid of the clutter familiar with most teenage rooms, it didn't take long to discover that apart from himself, his room was quite devoid of life. But that couldn't be right. It was insane, he didn't just imagine someone speaking to him, he wasn't suffering from any mental illness, were his eyes lying to him? Yes, his eyes must be lying to him, under a spell of some sort. This was not good, he was going to die here. The intruder knew exactly where Harry was, while keeping himself hidden from detection. Yet why was he still alive. The intruder must be acting out some sort of sick predator prey fantasy before he acted. Damn it, of all the people who could have come to kill him, why did it have to be this sicko. He was going to be tortured and beaten and then killed and there wasn't anything he could do about it. A quiet whimper escaped his lips as he began to shake violently.

"_Oh wonderful, the very embodiment of courage. It lifts my spirits and fills my heart with pride that my future companion, and the creature I chose to bond with, is at this very moment ...CHOCOLATE!"_

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, realising for the first time, that he wasn't hearing the voice with his ears. His eyes weren't lying to him at all. There was no one physically with him in the room, the voice he was hearing was instead resonating inside his skull. Was it Voldemort? No. There was no pain in his scar. It was almost amusing that his scar was one of the only places that didn't flare in pain during the attack. That left death eaters. No, a death eater would have attempted to become Voldemort's favourite by killing him outright. This was far too subtle to be a death eater. Too subtle for a death eater acting alone maybe, but a death eater strictly following Voldemort's orders? No Voldemort's orders would have been to kill him. Since the Dark Lord's revival, he was no longer needed anymore, no this was no Death Eater or Voldemort. What did that leave? It left only one other alternative.

Harry groaned loudly and rolled over onto his back flinging his arms out wide. Great, he had heard about this, the emotional trauma that had been building had finally taken its toll on his mind and split his conscience. He must have developed another personality that could better handle the situation that he was now in, one last ditch attempt to shield himself from the pain. But what was this other person going to be like? Harry doubted that it was a kind person. A kind person would never been able to handle the Dumbledore and Voldemort situation. Harry gasped and his eyes widened, he must have created a monster, an evil person capable of doing terrible things so that Harry wouldn't have to. That terrible pain he had experienced must have been the splitting of his psyche, but of all the cases of Multiple Personality Disorder he had never heard of pain being...

"_I'm sorry for leaving you hanging like that Harry, but I had something important to take care of."_ the voice said excitedly, seemingly having just returned to Harry's mind. _"But it's all finished now. Down to business I am-"_

"I know what you are" Harry said resignedly.

"_Really? I doubt you would, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear your guesses. Ok, go for it, you've gotten me curious."_

"You're me aren't you?"

"_WHAT!!!"_ The voice squawked.

"I've got multiple personalities, and you're one of them, come to take over my body and do terrible and monstrous things I would never-" Harry broke off at the laughter suddenly filling his mind. His theory was meant to be a valid explanation of the events that had just transpired, and he was feeling a little annoyed at having it so openly mocked. Honestly she didn't have to make him feel foolish like that...Harry's eyes widened in shock. Did he just think of the voice as a woman? Repeating their conversation in his head, he realised that the mysterious entity was indeed female. An excitable person with a bubbly sort of personality and evidently possessed a sarcastic, mocking sense of humour. Not the sort of personality one would create to deal with the horrors and betrayal of war.

"_Well, it took you long enough"_ the mysterious female stated tartly. _"Not very quick on the uptake are you? But then I don't entirely agree with your assessment. A female could do exceptionally well facing the horrors of war. We ARE the stronger of the two sexes you know."_

Realising that there was no danger threatening him, Harry felt his fear rapidly being replaced by anger, his mind returning to the horrors of Snape's occulemency lessons. A person's mind was most private, most sacred. It contains everything a person really is, showing them in a sort of stark truthfulness. Having them viewed by another person left Harry feeling naked and violated. He will never forget the humiliation he felt when Snape was rifling through his most private of secrets. How dare this person do this to him.

"Get out of my mind." Harry said between clenched teeth, his anger barely restrained.

"_Now Harry, stay calm, I can explain-"_

"No I won't calm down. You've invaded my privacy. No you've done much more than that. How dare you. Get out Get OUT." Harry started to hold his temples, shaking his head as if doing so would make her magically fly out of his head.

"_Harry, I understand how you feel, and I respect--"_

Harry's voice was rising, and so was his anger. "No you don't, otherwise I wouldn't have spent the last however long shrieking when you bludgeoned your way into my mind."

"_Now Harry, I hardly BLUDGEONED-"_

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY MIND NOW. HOW DARE YOU, INVADE MY PERSONAL-"

"_Harry shhhhhhhh. No wait listen for a second, calm yourself PLEASE!"_

"NO I WON'T, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT-"

"_You'll wake the Dursley's, and that might be an unpleasant situation for the both of us, seeing as I'm currently a passenger in your mind."_

Harry shut his mouth instantly with a click. Not wanting to wake the Dursley's, He strained his ears and listened intently for the telltale sounds of swearing and angry footsteps that would signify his Uncle's approach. Nothing. Just the occasional car engine driving past the Dursley's house, and his ragged shaky breathing, which he couldn't seem to bring under control. Evidence of the strain both his body and his mind have been under tonight. It wouldn't be long now before Harry would need to sleep, and being so physically and mentally exhausted he had no idea how long he would remain unconscious. But not now. No, he wanted answers and he would be getting them, TONIGHT!

Deeming the Dursley's to be still asleep, Harry's eyes narrowed, preparing on continuing the conversation with his uninvited guest. No words came from his mouth. His mouth choosing instead to remain closed. Harry tried again, shrugging off his unsuccessful attempt blaming it on his fatigue. Again his mouth would not respond. Then he stopped breathing.

No WAY, This wasn't POSSIBLE! The act of breathing was deeply ingrained in one's subconscious from the time of infancy, but here he was unable to force his nose, or his mouth, to take a breath. What was happening, why was he losing control of his limbs, why had he stopped breathing? It was HER. She had lied, she had come to kill him. If she had invaded his mind, she could probably control his limbs as well, she was doing this to him, preventing him from breathing, preventing him shouting for help, she was killing him without a sound. Harry began to panic, his hands clawing at his mouth desperately trying to open it with his fingers, reasoning that if he could manually pry his mouth open, he could take a breath that way and save his life. It didn't work, and he was fast running out of breath. Wait, realisation coming to him in a flash. This was just like the imperious curse. He might be able to defeat it the same way. Concentrating with everything he had, he focused on rejecting the evil witch that was in his mind, on telling his mouth to listen only to him, on pleading with his mouth to open and take that crucial breath that would save his life. His mouth remained stubbornly closed.

Harry was becoming hysterical, rolling on the ground limbs flailing wildly. Suffocation was a slow ugly way to die, and an experience Harry would desperately like to forgo. Rushing to his feet, he sprinted over to the bedroom wall, reared back his head, then rammed it forward head butting the wall with all the force he could muster. The room spun, and he slumped to the floor once again. With his guts twisting in panic, Harry screeched into his closed lips pounding his head with both his fists, silently pleading with his intruder for some mercy. It was when spots started to appear in front of his eyes signaling the end was nigh, that control of his nose was released back into Harry's control. He took several deep breaths before collapsing to the ground and crying with relief.

It took several minutes for Harry to regain some semblance of control, sobbing and shaking subsiding. However, sweating profusely, struggling to catch his breath, red eyes and tears still rolling down his cheeks Harry looked a bit of a mess. _"I am so sorry for doing that Harry, please forgive me, but it was the quickest way to convince you that I don't mean you any harm. Bit of a cruel irony. I proved that I meant you no harm by almost killing you, but please listen to me. If I had wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead and no one would have even heard a scream, not even that little Order member stationed outside your house. I will agree, of course, to answer any questions you might have, as part compensation for my act of cruelty just now. However, I will only do so, on the sole condition that you don't scream and you don't run, swear on your parent's grave. Oh wait, you can't speak at the moment. Well, you can swear by nodding your head. Well, do we have an agreement?"_

Wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, Harry gave a short nod in frustration. She had backed him into a corner and she knew it. If he ever wanted his mouth to be under his control again he would have to agree to this pact, but this was not one of those pacts that were lightly made, and easily broken. If he breaks his words, he would be desecrating his parent's memory, something Harry would never even consider doing. Attempting to speak, he found, much to his frustration, that his mouth was still not listening to his commands. But he just sealed the pact, why does he still have no control over his mouth? What was she doing? Nodding again, a little more exaggerated this time, he found his mouth still resolutely shut. Feeling extremely frustrated, Harry started to fling his head back and forth in an absurd manner, looking for all like a teddy bear that was being shaken too hard.

"_What are you doing? You look positively ridiculous. A small nod would have done you know."_

Harry glared. Then his cheeks flushed in embarrassment at trying to glare at a voice in his head.

"_And stop glaring, you do know you can talk again don't you?"_

"WHA-err what? How was I suppose to know I could speak again? And where were you? I've been nodding my head for the last minute," Harry said, feeling extremely frustrated and saying the last part through gritted teeth. He was beginning to wonder why everyone was picking on him tonight.

"_Ohhh, whoops, sorry, my fault, something must have distracted me for a second. Oh well, let's not worry about that now, I promised you that I'd answer any of your questions, and I am a lady of my word. So ask away, I'll do my best to-"_

"Who are you? What do you want? Why did it hurt so much when you broke into my mind, but when Snape performs legilimency there's no pain? How did you manage to control me? Why couldn't I shake off your imperious curse? I don't believe you, you're just trying to befriend-"

"_Whoa one at a time, you're making my head spin"_

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself and to order his thoughts. He had a lot to get through so he might as well start with the obvious. But at the same time he didn't want to anger a person that could kill him at her whim. He decided to try to keep his anger under control.

"Who are you?"

"_My name is Crystalline, but that's a bit of a mouthful sometimes, so just call me Crys,"_ Crys replied casually. So he finally had a name to go with that infuriating voice.

"Why is it that the Dursley's didn't wake when I screamed?"

"_What do you mean? I didn't hear any scream."_ Crys replied, sounding confused.

"What, of course I screamed. I screamed when my mind was bulldozed in-"

"_Oh for heaven's sake would you stop being so melodramatic! I did not bulldoze, bludgeon, sledgehammer, or power my way into your mind, and if you must know, I refused to let your mouth open so your scream was muffled," _Crys replied sounding annoyed.

Harry felt his anger start to rise. Even if it had prevented the Dursley's from waking, she had physically manipulated his body without permission...again! Crys sighed _"What's wrong with you? Do you enjoy spending your life in perpetual anger? It was the only way to stop you from waking the Dursley's, so can we just drop this and continue the questions. If it will mollify you any, I promise that I will ask your permission before controlling any part of your body from this point forwards, and I promise only to ask if it is necessary, happy?"_

"Words are easily spoken!" Harry spat.

"_Oh for heaven's sake, do you want me to sign it in blood. Okay how's this, I promise on the spirits of all my ancestors that I will, from this moment forth, not usurp control of your body, limbs, or any organs attached to it unless having your permission first. How's that?"_

Harry felt a little comforted by this, and Crys having sworn on something important added a bit of weight behind her promise. He was grateful to Crys for this. She didn't have to make this concession, seeing as she appeared to be totally in control at the moment. Maybe she wasn't COMPLETELY evil, he had to make sure though.

"How do I know that you're not trying to befriend me with a fake friendly attitude to betray me later on and hurt my friends, or convince me to do something stupid handing Voldemort-"

"_Easy there Harry. You know, the answer to that question should be rather obvious. However, this has been a taxing night for you, and you really aren't thinking straight at the moment...Well, I'm hoping that is the reason. I would hate to think you're this slow normally."_

Harry shot to his feet, his hands clenched and a sharp retort on his lips, but calmed once he heard a soft giggling resounding in his head. Harry growled, stomped over to his bed and flopped down on it, feeling a little put out that his intelligence had come into question so many times today. So much for keeping his anger on a tight leash he thought.

"If you've finished mocking me, you still haven't answered the question!"

"_Sorry Harry. I was just teasing you. You're so easy to get a rise out of. Remember when I took control of you, you were completely at my mercy. It would have been a simple matter to assume control of your entire body. Nobody would suspect. It would be a more effective and less time-consuming way than befriending you, don't you agree? _

Harry grunted irritatingly. She raised an infuriatingly good point. Not even Voldemort could subdue him as easily and as completely as Crystalline had, barely repressing a shiver at the distressing thought.

"_Don't tell me you're scared of me Harry. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." _Crystalline said letting out a few snickers.

Outwardly, Harry's eyes narrowed, but inwardly his heart lightened a little further. Crys's last statement seemed to be in jest, but peculiarly every fibre of Harry's being told him that in this instance, she was dead serious. Shaking his head, he reasoned he'd work through it tomorrow, along with the rest of her answers. "How is it that I couldn't shake off your imperious curse? Imperious curses have hardly any effect on me, how is it that my efforts made no impression on it?" Harry asked, continuing his questioning.

"_Ahhhhh, that's easily answered, it wasn't an imperious curse,"_ Crys replied off-hand. Harry was beginning to notice that Crys had an infuriating habit of only giving the minimal information required to answer any given question.

"Well!" Harry said, getting annoyed.

"_Hmmmm? Well what?"_

"What was it THEN!" Harry gestured sharply with his hands. He had been under a lot of stress tonight, and Crys was starting to frustrate him to no end.

"_I just manipulated the bonding we now share is all"_

"Bonding? That's the second time you've mentioned that? What bonding?" Harry had a sinking feeling in his gut. The word bonding sounded very serious and very permanent, possibly with numerous side-effects. This thought made him nervous. He felt like he was suddenly conscripted to be a part of something nobody told him about. His suspicions rose further when he noticed that some time had passed and Crys had still not given an answer.

"You're not answering, why aren't you answering? What have you done to me? You're not working for Dumbledore or the Order are you?" This was something Dumbledore would rope him into to, using this bonding technique to enhance his control over his weapon, forcing him to-

"_No, of course not. I am definitely not apart of Dumbledore's Order, nor do I have anything to do with them. This bonding is not a harmful thing Harry."_ was the instant reply.

"If it's not harmful, then why aren't you answering the question?"

"_Well, it is just a very very lengthy answer. Is it possible for me to answer this question in the morning please? I believe that we don't have enough time for that tonight."_

"But we still have hours left" Harry protested.

"_Har-"_

"You weren't attacking my mind at all. That searing pain in my skull, was you and you're so called bonding. What is it, what did you do to me? Not harmful you say? Merlin's hairy hemorrhoid infested ass. It was pretty painful where I was standing. And what's this about telling me in the morning. Is that a delicate way of saying that there is a trap waiting for me tonight, and you'd speak the answer tomorrow to my gravestone? What are you planning? You're just here to distract me aren't-"

"_No Harry I'm not I swear, and that's just gross. Look, you're exhausted, you've pushed yourself virtually to the limits tonight both mentally and physically-"_

"No, no I'm fine. Bloody nocturnal I am, don't sleep at night at all. Now would you answer my question, or should I scream for my auror friend outside."

"_You didn't consider him much of a friend a little while ago."_

"So you have been looking at my mem-"

"_Look, let's compromise before this argument gets heated,"_ Crystalline sighed. _"How about this, you ask the rest of your questions, and if we still have time by the end, then I'll inform you about the bonding I performed. If we don't, I'll answer it when you next wake. Fair, yes?"_

"Why would we run out of time tonight, there's plenty of-"

"_Well if you keep making pointless statements like that, we'll run out quicker than you think."_

"What do you mean pointless statements. You wasted more time 'getting a rise' out of me, than I have making pointless statements. From where I am sitting, I haven't made any pointless statements because no one will TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" Harry yelled. It was so unfair. For his entire life, people had been hiding things from Harry and he's sick and tired of it all. He had enough of it. NO MORE! NO MORE LIES!

"_Touché, and what's wrong with you. Are you trying to wake the Dursley's?"_

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're changing the subject."

"_No, the subject has already been changed, next question please."_

"FINE! But I will have it answered once my other questions have been exhausted."

"_Of course. That's what I said wasn't it?"_ Crys replied agreeably. A little too agreeably as far as Harry was concerned.

"You're hiding something from me, what is it?"

"_I suppose that would tie into the reason for which I'm here."_

"And what is it you are doing here. What are you doing coming in at the middle of the night, forcing me to bond with you, reading my thoughts, looking at all my memories, and demonstrating that you could kill me at a moments notice. Is it hate? Do you hate me so much? Are you going to make my life miserable, because if you are, you're too late. Voldemort, Dumbledore and his bloody Order have already beaten you to it, so if that's the reason you are here, you can leave. They don't need any help." Harry said tears forming in his eyes.

"_Oh Harry, I can't leave. Once bonded the bond can't be broken. That being said, IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME!"_ Crystalline shouted in Harry's head, causing Harry to sit bolt upright, one hand clasped on each temple attempting to lessen the pain.

"Arrggghh, damn it, next time you feel the urge to yell, please remember you're inside my BLOOMING HEAD!" Harry grounded out between clenched teeth.

"_Whoops, sorry. It's just that I've been waiting for you to ask that question for the last however many minutes. I thought that would be the first or second question you would ask, considering the importance of such a question. I even had a miniature speech made up just for it, but you took so long getting to it ,and you had so many emotional outbursts, that I forgot. Damn, it took me ages to make it sound impressive and mysterious without being downright corny, and now it was all for naught, and it's all your fault because-"_

"Ummm, you haven't answered my question yet. If we're running out of time as you believe we are, then we really shouldn't be spewing off topic." Harry said, his eyes narrowing. "Unless, this is just a ploy to change the subject!"

"_Damn it Harry is it possible for you to be a little less paranoid, please. Just a smidgen, I'm not asking you to go the whole nine yards, or in your case miles, and completely trust me or anything. Just for a little less paranoia. You know what I'm talking about. Not assuming everything I say is a ploy to get you off 'the scent', not assuming every action I take is to 'cause you harm', not assume-"_

"Crys, my question, PLEASE!"

"_Oh right the question,"_ Crys replied. Pausing in an attempt to make herself sound more mysterious, and to build the suspense, or so Harry thought. _"I guess you can call me your f.....your guide. I'm here to help you. You know, things like provide advice ,give support...aid you in escaping the armed muggles coming to kill you tonight"._

"WHA-"

"_Oh and before you get any kinky ideas, I suppose that I should probably inform you that I'm of the feline family."_

"_huh....."_

Crys sighed. _"I'm a cat Harry, and I'm sitting outside your house"._

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